


Latin Is Not That Dead a Language

by Nemesis (ThetaSigma), ThetaSigma



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Also Victor Hugo is mentioned, Barba is far too clever and a bit snarky, Humor, M/M, Okay very snarky, Very Secret Diary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 16:38:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11832735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetaSigma/pseuds/Nemesis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetaSigma/pseuds/ThetaSigma
Summary: Barba comes across a diary in code. Unfortunately for the writer, he's quite good at this and has a handy translation ready.





	Latin Is Not That Dead a Language

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sidewinder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/gifts).



> For sidewinder, who I totally stole the idea from.

Barba came across an old, leatherbound book one day in the break room. Clearly a diary, and he knew he shouldn’t open it, just leave it for whoever had left it, but even at the best of times he was a nosy bastard.

He opened it curiously and his eyebrows rose. Latin.

Well. Usually a good code, but whoever was writing this forgot that they were in a _courthouse._

 _Everyone_ here spoke at least _some_ Latin, and Barba, being quite good at his job, spoke more than most. A strict Catholic upbringing, even if he was not religious now, took care of the rest.

He read it idly as he walked back, snickering to himself as he translated it: _“Aug 2. Surprised him with a blowjob on the couch. Not long, 3.5 minutes to orgasm, think he was worked up from the dirty letters I sent”_ – ah, Latin of course would not have a word for ‘texts’. 

_‘Aug 2, round 2. He fucked me senseless later that night, used the whip to punish me. Quite exciting, will have to put the skirt on next time, see if he likes that.’_

Barba pocketed the small diary and resolved to translate it fully. In the back of his mind, it niggled that he knew this handwriting, and he resolved to try to remember where he had seen it before.

***

Barba was in his office now, fresh cup of coffee at his elbow, legal pad at his hand, and he opened the diary again.

_‘Aug 3. Morning sex, always a good start to a weekend. No kissing, morning breath the worst. Finally taught him that. Blowjobs all around.’_

Ah, so both of them male, that narrowed it down quite a bit. Barba jotted down the entry, then kept reading.

_‘Aug 4. Leather skirt this time, on request. Got thoroughly whipped for being bad. Thoroughly fucked too. Couldn’t move after. Definitely a good fuck.’_

Barba shifted in his seat and wondered if he should stop reading, especially since he didn’t know whose this was. He may never be able to look this man in the eyes again.

The next entry caught his eye.

_‘Aug 7. He’s been away for work, surprised him there with dinner and a quick blowjob in the bathroom. Haven’t been there for several years, do miss it. We fucked in pretty much every room in that building.’_

Hm.

He really definitely knew this handwriting, Barba reflected.

***

John Munch was not big on keeping a diary. He did not need a record of every thought that came into his mind, especially since so many of them were intrusive or depressing.

However, there were _some_ exploits of his he rather liked to keep track of, and, being old-fashioned, he didn’t trust modern technology at all. He knew perfectly well from his time on the force that a computer could be hacked. So his exploits were kept on old-fashioned pen and paper, and to add an extra level of challenge, in Latin.

Latin he had picked up in college on a dare. He had been studying French, of course, when his roommate, frustrated that John was breezing through French with no problem, said that well, he’d have a lot harder time with a dead language. John had picked up his roommate’s Catullus and burst out laughing, giving a fairly accurate translation.

His roommate had scowled at him and torn the book out of his hands. His roommate also didn’t speak to him for the following week, although that didn’t matter much. John had discovered Latin was simply _full_ of dirty shit like that, and he went looking for it, devouring all sorts of accounts.

It was then that he came across Victor Hugo’s diary and … well! It was certainly stimulating reading, and John had spent quite a bit of time in the bathroom following _that_ discovery. It was amazing the man got any writing down, given how very much time he spent fucking.

Since then, John had kept his own diary in Latin, although his exploits were far less numerous and interesting than Hugo’s, even for the 60s.

***

_‘Sep 3. Cop uniform today. He always looks so hot in it. Punishing me for …’_

Barba quite suddenly knew just whose handwriting this was – John Munch – and he grinned to himself. Munch had quite a sense of humor, and Barba reapplied himself to the task of translating this diary.

***

Munch stopped by a day later, reporting on the investigation he was working on. They discussed it for several minutes, Barba suggesting several further avenues he wanted Munch to pursue. All in all, a professional conversation, although a smile kept playing at the edge of his lips.

John had looked at him suspiciously throughout – Barba didn’t usually smile randomly – but said nothing.

“Oh, by the way, I have something for you,” Barba said, handing over the legal pad, covered in notes.

John looked at it then paled. “So _you_ found it. How… you…” He tried to pull himself together; he was not usually so inarticulate.

“Latin, in a courthouse? Please.”

John flushed and realized that while it had been an _excellent_ code while at SVU, Barba was entirely right. 

“It wasn’t even _vulgar_ Latin,” Barba continued. “Just straightforward Classical Latin. No challenge. Here.” He handed back the diary.

John took it and flipped through the legal pad. “You translated _all_ of it?”

“Call me curious.”

“I believe the word is _nosy_.”

“Curious is a polite word for nosy.”

John had to laugh at that. Although, he reflected, this was _definitely_ not something he’d be telling Fin about. Maybe, too, it was high time he stopped keeping this diary all together.

**Author's Note:**

> And yes, Victor Hugo was that bad.


End file.
